


deeper than the corners of your mind

by hito



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fisting, M/M, PWP, super-soldier physicality totally excuses unrealistic sex right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hito/pseuds/hito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve knows it's selfish. </p>
<p>Written for the <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/18271.html?thread=43529311#t43529311">kinkmeme.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	deeper than the corners of your mind

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [deeper than the corners of your mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7778011) by [black_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_sun/pseuds/black_sun)



Steve knows it's selfish. 

Even as Bucky's fingers curl inside him, pushing as deep as they can get and twisting his body off the bed with the pleasure of the rough slide, he knows it's selfish. 

"Yeah," he says, voice thick and clotted like cream. "Like that, like th--more." 

He reaches down to stroke a shaking hand over Bucky's hair as he says it, and he worries it seems like an afterthought, like a sop to convention, but then Bucky slips a third finger in, fast and sure, and Steve isn't thinking at all. 

"Mm," he gasps, legs spreading, hips tilting in invitation, not that Bucky should be waiting for one by now. 

He always does, though. "You sure?" he asks. His voice is rough, though he hasn't done anything to earn the rasp yet. "That's only three. You sure you want more?" 

Steve is always sure. He always has been sure that he wants whatever Bucky can give him, even back when he hadn't been able to handle it, no matter how hard he had tried. 

He can handle it now. 

"Yeah," he says again, and reaches down to slide his fingers over the steel of Bucky's hand, curl them around that lonely little finger with its knuckles pressed awkwardly into the curve of his ass, and drag it up to join the others. 

The metal is cool as it slides into him, chill not yet removed by the contact. Steve likes it when Bucky's hand is warmed by him, from being held close inside his burning flesh, but he likes this, too, the first touch that always startles him with the sharp bite of contrast, makes him shiver. 

His heels dig into the mattress, pulling his body down the bed and the sheets with it, but Bucky's hand moves too, not letting Steve drag him in deeper, though his fingers keep moving restlessly, rubbing right where Steve wants them, and he certainly can't complain about that. 

He does anyway. 

"Bucky," he whines. "Come on." 

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, the way he always had, even though he had to have known. "You mean it?" 

"Like you don't--" Steve huffs, but Bucky's thumb is nudging up against him, working him open, and Steve just says, " _Ah--_ " sharply instead, instead of whatever he had been-- 

"I do," Bucky says, like always, even though Steve doesn't--

Steve isn't quite sure that's true. 

"Yeah?" he asks, although Bucky won't understand. "Please." 

"Yeah," Bucky says easily, like it wasn't even a question, like it never is, and Steve wants so badly for that to be true. 

"Please," he says again, though he knows Bucky only likes that when he sounds polite instead of desperate, and he thinks that point is long past. 

Bucky likes to touch him gently, the way he remembers now, and Steve likes that too, he does, loves the way Bucky kisses him slowly and presses warm, careful fingers against his jaw, over his cheekbone, and keeps the metal arm looped loosely around his waist outside his clothes, nothing but a support for Steve to lean back against. He likes that too, though it worries him sometimes. 

He hopes Bucky feels the same way about this, but he's too afraid to ask. 

He knows it's selfish, but he can't bring himself to risk having to stop. 

Bucky is watching him as his hand works slowly inside, eyes flickering from Steve's face to his ass as the unyielding metal pries him apart. Four fingers are all the way in, just the sharp angle of the knuckle of Bucky's thumb catching on his rim and pulling him tight, and Steve gasps, hard, struggling for breath like sinking beneath the waves, like the last time they'd done this. 

The flat of Bucky's hand is inside him, hard and more certain than anything else Steve has ever felt, surer than memory or loyalty or love, and he tries to turn his thighs out further for Bucky, but his body is shaking too hard, already beyond his control. 

Bucky is watching him, and Steve tries so hard to be what Bucky wants to see, but he's crying out, soft, pleading noises he can't contain, and as he catches Bucky's eye as his shoulders roll urgently, he feels his mouth go slack with longing. 

Bucky smiles, and dips his head. 

His tongue is warm on Steve's skin, on the soft inner skin revealed by the spread and twist of those hard fingers, and Steve can't watch him anymore, can't think, can't do anything but feel everything that sings through his body as it clenches around Bucky in joy. 

His awareness fades for a moment, colours glowing and swelling behind his eyelids, but when Bucky's last knuckle shoves inside him, his eyes fly open as he shouts. The sound echoes around the bedroom, but Steve is pushing himself up on one arm, other hand on his knee to keep his body locked in position, and he shouts and shouts and _wails_ as he sinks down onto Bucky's fist, ass clenching around his wrist and then flaring as gravity and desire pull him down the thickness of Bucky's forearm. 

"Steve," Bucky says desperately, and Steve chokes out another strangled gasp at the sudden tense flex of Bucky's fingers inside him. 

He makes a helpless noise in his throat, sinking down and down as low and as long as he can, though he's shaking so hard he knows he's going to collapse and this is going to be over, because Bucky won't-- 

Bucky's other hand lands on the small of his back, the bones of his fingers pressing deep into Steve's skin, deep enough that Steve thinks it might bruise, for a little while, though Bucky's never that rough, even though Steve can take it now, wants to take that from Bucky the same way he wants the Bucky he has rather than the one he thinks Bucky sometimes imagines they've both lost. 

"Buck," he says, voice slurring the word into endlessness, the way it should be. 

His weight settles against the support of Bucky's hand and his eyes settle on Bucky's face, on the deep, unrestrained desire that's taken up residence while he was distracted. 

"Oh," he says. 

"Yeah," Bucky says, an instruction this time, and Steve obeys before knowing what it is, ass tightening greedily around Bucky's arm as his cock jerks desperately, dripping the way it always does when he's about to come. He hears the drops hit the metal of Bucky's arm, hears Bucky's hand spread them around to ease Steve's way. It hadn't occurred to him to work the lube down past Bucky's wrist. "Yeah, you're going to fuck yourself on me just like that, huh, Stevie, all the way down my arm, far as you can take it." 

He is, because Bucky is helping him, keeping him steady so he can, but he won't _do_ it, won't-- 

Bucky's fingers rub carefully inside him, pads of his fingers stroking sparks from Steve's body. He'd be leaving fingerprints, if he were using his other hand, Steve thinks, dazed. Maybe he is anyway. 

"You want me as far inside you as I can go? Bet you'd like to feel my elbow rubbing against your ass, huh?" 

" _Oh_ ," Steve says, "I can't, I _can't_ , I--" 

But he could, maybe, because he's pulling himself back up the rough length of Bucky's arm and dropping back down, ekeing himself open another breath, sinking that last bit further, taking as much as he can though never as much as he wants. 

"Yeah, you can," Bucky murmurs gently. It hurts, Steve thinks, though everything he's feeling is zinging through his nerves, transforming everything about him into ecstatic, electrified pleasure. He only knows he's still biting out sounds because he can hear himself making them, crying out his love. "You always could do anything you set your mind to." 

There's enough of Steve left that he forces his eyes open to see Bucky's face at that, and for a moment he catches sight of the shy, slow joy uncurling there, before Bucky clenches his hand into a fist and fucks the wideness of it up into the space where his fingers had been. 

Steve comes, he knows, though he's never felt anything like it. He never wants to feel anything else again. 

He doesn't, for a while, because the sparkling, ringing feel of it seizes all his body and mind as it swamps him in pleasure and obliterates everything else, and he clings to the echoes of the sensation as long as he can. When he opens his eyes he's flat on his back on the bed, Bucky propped on an elbow by his side, cock pressed soft and wet against his thigh. 

"Hey," Steve protests muzzily, "I was going to do that." 

"Sure thing, soldier," Bucky says wryly. Steve's too wrung out to argue. 

"So," Steve starts, because he knows he can now, although he still feels a faint, fading twinge of anxiety. "That was okay?" 

"You could say," Bucky says, curling the warm, dirty metal of his hand around Steve's hip and leaning in to press Steve's mouth open for a slow, deep kiss. "But I'd say it was better than that."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] deeper than the corners of your mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476658) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




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